Once Siblings
by osmandias
Summary: In a town of twilight, VI has only harsh memories to remind him whenever he sees her. Oneshot.


She use to be his sister. Ienzo's, once upon a time. Even changed, it does little to eradicate the lingering memory of concern, given too late from the elder brother to his younger sister. He had been told once that family was forever. In his arrogance he had not listened. At the time -- a past so distant, another existence -- knowledge of the unknown had been more significant that ties of blood.

In a town of twilight, bathed in the dusky glow of the setting sun, he watches from the shadows. She's not lonely; an encouraging change from what she has been use to. There were times when she had been forgotten, cast-off like a toy that no longer provided amusement. But she is not discarded here. Here she is necessary in someone's life. Standing with friends who enjoy the time they spend with her: one who endlessly talks, another who walks with arrogance that was bound to a strong sense of honour. For the negative image that is projected by them, they are respectable youths. She wouldn't be around them if they were not.

He would have seen to it. Too late does he become the guardian.

She begins to giggle at something the blonde boy says. From the gloom the traces of a smile form on bloodless lips -- he recalled her laughter. All too quickly it ended, the wind-up toy dying. She covered her mouth and closed those red eyes, trying to bury the emotion. She would show laughter if she could -- but the recollection of someone older, someone she had looked up to, telling her emotions might just be products of the imagination -- stops her. Although years had divided them, his spoken words had resounded in her like a god's. The powerful memory had remained fresh in her mind, words from an almighty deity that could never be erased.

She doesn't want people to think that she gives into flights of the imagination. She doesn't want them to consider her as a child. She doesn't want them to think of her as fragile. The last thing she wants anyone to do is treat her the way it had been before, before arriving in this town bordering on dusk. Composing herself, that babyish smile slips beneath the surface and she answers with a solitary word.

For a girl of her age, she is much too serious.

He has only himself to blame for the enduring damage. She had only wanted to be like her older brother.

It should have been a duty, the brother caring for his sister, to be accepted with the grace of age and maturity. He hadn't. An excuse was found every time to slip from responsibility, to leave her trailing behind him, her short uneven strides unable to match his long ones. He never waited for her, blocking out the pitiful cries for the elder to wait for the younger. She screamed after him, collapsing in a tiny ball and crying wretchedly. Her hands would ball into fists and anything nearby would be broken in an infantile fury.

Ienzo had learned to block out the cries early on.

She doted on him still, her star in the night sky. A butterfly caught from the garden with wings that glittered like a precious jewel, a rock coloured differently from the others -- in chubby hands these offerings would be given to her god. He never had the time, scant seconds that would have made the difference, to look up from his work. The butterfly, crushed in hands too young to know the meaning of death and kicked to the floor, the brunt end of anger misdirected. The rock, thrown at the source of her pain, accidentally knocking over an inkbottle and ruining the starch whiteness of his papers.

Hours of work obliterated. Ienzo had slapped her, shouting angrily at her outburst. The young sister had fled the room, screaming promises that she hated him, _hated him_, as he had slammed the door behind her, the deadbolt sliding shut. The first time Ienzo had locked her out, he felt a sense of gratification, finding a viable solution to ridding himself of an unwanted pest.

Hood up, he sees her kick the dusky-skinned youth, calling him an idiot. The boy looks abashed and turns his face to look at the pebble-strewn ground, not wanting to meet those harsh eyes under silver bangs.

Ienzo knew that his sister would change.

She had grown older; her legs able to keep stride with his no matter how fast he walked, learning how to make her words just as cutting as his had been. Sometimes she would follow him to the laboratory beneath the castle, standing just beyond the doorway. She knew what he was involved in was wrong, but she kept her silence, hoping that it would be enough for him to trust her. _To be invited in_. Her brother's eyes never met with hers as the door was closed and locked, barring her from his world. The pleasant sounds within of friends conversing, of a bonding that she was excluded from, would be muted and fade. She waited -- hours would pass -- until realization came that she had been forgotten. Tiny feet would drag slowly away, fleeting ruby eyes casting a last hopeful look, waiting for the door to open. It never did, never would.

Ienzo would come home to find his room had been turned upside down, his research notes vanishing into the fireplace. She would be standing just beyond the door then, self-satisfaction in those eyes as she waited for his reaction.

The others told him that he would regret the treatment he gave to his sister -- family was eternal, the one fixture that was permanent in any changing life. He only told them to mind their own business; his research consumed him. The Darkness soon did as well, a fitting end for someone caught up in what had become a hollow and unfulfilled life.

Broken as their family was, the brother had sought out his sister in that madness that he had helped to orchestrate. Dragging her from the house into the swirling chaos, a kicking and howling child, Ienzo had thrown her onto a ship that was bound off world. To where it didn't matter, but she would get away. He had hit her again, hard enough to leave a mark, when she had tried to cling to him. A foolish attempt to stay behind. Blubbering tears, apologizing for everything that she had done to make him miserable, the younger sister only wanted her brother. He turned his back on her, pushing her away, closing and locking the door one final time.

That tear-stained face silently watched him before shadows eclipsed Ienzo, the brother bidding the sister a final farewell. Regret was the last emotion he experienced, the most powerful memory he possessed in his suspended existence.

She poses reflexively, her back straight, hands at her side; face a controlled mask of sentiment. A sister tries to emulate the memory of her brother -- forgets why she does so, only that she feels compelled to try. The boys laugh about something, waiting for her reaction at what surely must have been a humorous tale. A slight frown crosses those lips, bangs falling in front of her face. She folds her arms, the message apparent that she no longer desires their company. Turning her back to them and stalking across the wide expanse, the younger sister turns down a busy corner and is lost from view.

Zexion's flat eyes track her from where he stands, always hidden in darkness. In a town of twilight his once-sister resides, haunted by memories that she questions, of a brother that has shaped her more than she would wish to admit. The elder sibling knows that he is no longer needed, his remembrance not wanted, his sister not his anymore.

Family was not eternal.

Memories were, and in his gloved hands the dry remains of a butterfly laughed silently at what he had lost everlastingly.


End file.
